Turnabout Hero
by three-days-late
Summary: When Alfred F. Jones is accused and tried for murder, Phoenix Wright is brought in to defend him. Solving a murder with this strange bunch will not be easy, and with secrets around every corner and the entire country against him, can Phoenix prove him innocent?
1. Prologue: The Scene of the Crime

**This is a deanon from the Hetalia kink meme, the request was for an Ace Attorney/Hetalia crossover, now spruced up and edited, and I even had those pesky plot holes filled for your reading convenience, if you've read this on the meme. If you haven't, hey look! An Ace Attorney/Hetalia Crossover! This should be fun!  
**

**Enjoy! **

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**March 10, 9:15 PM. Alleyway.**

BANG!

He took off running, not thinking or caring about what exactly he was doing. All he knew was that there was a gunshot and he was around to hear it and hopefully he could get there in time.

BANG!

_Damn…_

When he turned the corner and dashed down the alley where the shots came from, he was met with the last sight he expected to see…well maybe not _the _last, Matt riding a dinosaur while shouting profanities in Spanish with Francis calmly sipping tea from the sidelines and Arthur praising French culture would probably take that spot, but this was definitely in the top ten, possibly even the top five.

"You…what…" before he could get a coherent sentence out he saw a quick movement in the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look he was blinded by a flash and when he turned back, he was alone in the alley.

That is, except for the Congressman lying on the ground that had just been shot twice. He was still there.

"Hold on!" he wasted no time switching to hero mode and kneeling by the man's side and pressing his hands to his chest to try and stop the bleeding. "You're going to be fine, just let me-"

Before he could say anymore, a hand shot up and grabbed his wrist tight. "D-don't…"

"No, you'll be fine! Just let me call for help-"

He shook his head. "I-it's a trap…g-get out…" The dying man violently coughed up blood before taking his last, labored breaths and died.

"N-no!" He started beating his chest. "Live damnit! You can't die on me now!"

He realized it was too late, that nothing would work, that he was gone, and fell backwards away from the body, shock setting in.

Lights, headlights to be specific, shone behind him, sirens were blazing. He heard someone shouting something at him, but he couldn't quite make it out…

"I said stand up and put your hands in the air!"

He saw no reason not to, so he complied. Instantly he was shoved face first into a nearby wall and his hands cuffed behind his back. It started to rain, washing the blood off the ground, off the body, off of everywhere but his hands.

"Alfred F. Jones, you are under arrest for the murder of Congressman Smith. You have the right to remain silent…"


	2. Day 0: First Contact

**Thanks to everyone who faved and reviewed! You guys are amazing. I love hearing what you guys think, especially when we get to the investigating part. Here, for your reading entertainment, is the first chapter.**

**Enjoy!  
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My name is Phoenix Wright, and I'm a defense attorney. I get some really weird cases sometimes, and this last one probably tops them all…

**March 15, 9:00AM. Wright & Co. Law Offices.**

I was lounging around my office, not a care in the world, when my assistant and resident spirit medium, Maya Fey, suddenly burst through the door.

"Hey Nick, are you…do you still not have a case yet!?"

"It's just a lag. Things'll pickup when we get into the murder season."

"There's a season for murder? Huh, never knew that. Must be autumn."

"Why do you say that?"

"It goes by the code name 'fall.' Autumn is definitely planning something." She looked around the office, which was a complete mess. "Maybe if you picked up around the office a little, you'd stop scaring all the clients away."

(Isn't that your job? And most of it is your mess anyway…)

"Oh, by the way," Maya continued, "who's this guy? Is he friend of yours?"

"…What guy?"

"The guy standing right here."

I looked to where she was pointing, and sure enough, there was a man with silky blond hair, sky blue eyes, and glasses shuffling around right by the door.

"Oh, there. Um, sorry, I didn't see you."

"It's alright, I'm used to it," he gave me a small smile and stepped forward, "but, um, you are the defense attorney, aren't you?"

"Yeah, how can I help you? You don't look like the type of guy to get into trouble."

"It's always the quiet ones that you got to watch out for, Nick," Maya whispered.

(You're one to talk…get your hand away from my wallet!)

"No, I'm fine. It's, well, my brother, Alfred Jones."

Maya went wide eyed and gasped, "You, you're…you're related to that creep?!"

(Who's he? The name doesn't ring a bell. Why do I have the feeling I'm missing something important…?)

"It's all over the news Nick! You really should keep up on the current…political stuff."

(Maya actually paying attention to the news? More likely something out of the gossip columns.)

"Anyway, Alfred Jones is a demon! He's the one who killed that Congressman in DC the other day in cold blood for no other reason than he likes watching people suffer. He knows he's guilty too, so he keeps refusing defense lawyers, even the ones the state's providing for him!"

(Definitely the gossip columns. You shouldn't believe everything you see on TV.)

"No no! That's completely wrong! Sorry, but that's just the way the media's spinning it. He didn't kill anyone, and he's refusing defense lawyers because he's an idiot."

"So why are you here, Mr. Jones?" I asked.

"Eh? Oh, sorry, I never gave you my name did I? It's Williams actually, Matthew Williams, but you can just call me Matt, or That Guy Canadian Guy, or even Who, I'll respond to anything really. But Mr. Wright, I've heard about you. You take on seemingly impossible cases with some of the most idiotic clients and somehow miraculously prove their innocence. Believe me when I say Alfred didn't kill that man, he just wouldn't do something like that!"

"You came all the way to California just to hire me? Does your brother even know you're here?"

"Well, no. He can be a bit, stubborn, sometimes. And it's not that far. I live in Ottawa, but I had a meeting in Vancouver until yesterday, so it's kind of on my way. I was supposed to be in Washington today anyway, so I'll just be showing up a bit later than I planned."

"What were you doing in Vancouver?" Maya asked, "Isn't that kinda far?"

"Not from here no; it's in the same time zone anyway. I work for the government, so, um, I can't really talk about what I was doing there. Sorry, but it's classified."

_Matthew Williams  
Age: 19  
Gender: Male  
Defendant's Brother. Works for the Canadian Government. A bit on the shy side and sometimes hard to notice._

"That's fine, but why me?"

"Well, um, Kiku, he's my friend and he recommended you, well, he said that you were a bit of an idiotic idealist."

(Great, now people I've never met are making fun of me…)

"I'm sorry; it's just what he said. Please don't make that face."

(…What face?)

"It's fine though, because my brother is the king of idiotic idealists. You don't have to say yes yet, just come to Washington with me and meet him. I'll even pay for the flight and the hotel! There's a good chance he won't even take you on, I just want to," he bit his lip and shifted his feet, "try. He's my brother. Even if he is an idiot, I can't just let him go to jail."

"Flight and hotel? It's like a free vacation! I say we go. I'll get my bathing suit." Maya cheered.

(Do you even know where Washington DC is?)

"I can't just drop everything and fly across the country. My law firm is here, and I've got work to do too you know."

"No you don't, Nick, you haven't had a case in months! We'll go!"

"Thank you! It means a lot to me!" he did look relieved as he smiled at us, "The flight leaves in about an hour, so if you could get packed quickly that would be best. I'll just be waiting outside." With some more words of thanks, he left.

"Why did you do that, Maya? I thought you didn't like this guy."

"Matt's nice; it's not his fault his brother's a cold-hearted demon man. And you don't have to take the case, just the free plane ride and hotel room!" She ran around the office, tossing random things into two suitcases she pulled out of somewhere. I didn't even know we had them in the office.

"Maya, this won't be a vacation you know. He's trying to hire us for a case. We may end up working."

"We're taking a plane, and we'll be staying at a hotel. Of course it's a vacation! Now, should I bring red one, or the blue one?"

(Why do I get the feeling this is going to be one crazy trip?)


	3. Day 0: First Meeting

**And here is the long awaited next chapter! I'm trying to get these up as fast as I can, but I'm easily distracted. orz If I go longer than a week without an update, feel free to give me a small nudge in the right direction.  
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**Enjoy!  
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**March 15, 5:00 PM. Detention Center.**

Matthew, as it turned out, knew almost everybody at both airports, and they trusted him enough to let us all bypass the security measures so we could get to the capitol as quickly as possible. As soon as we landed he insisted that we go meet his brother right away.

"So we don't waste time. If you do take the case, then you'll need time to prepare your defense and if you don't, well, I'll need to arrange your flight home. We can go to the hotel right after."

"But I'm tired," Maya complained, "I have lag jet."

"I think you mean jet lag, and you can go on ahead to the hotel and rest if you want. I can meet him by myself."

"They might not let you in," Matthew said, "They've increased security at the Detention Center since the media picked up the story. Here I'll write you a note."

_Note From Matthew  
Quick note from Matthew to get me in to see Alfred._

"Thanks," I put the note in my pocket for safe keeping.

"I wrote the address of the hotel for you too, so just meet us there when you're done."

They left me to face Alfred Jones alone, and getting at him was as hard as Matt had predicted. The place was crawling with press.

"Are you the new defense lawyer?" A woman with a microphone asked me.

"Um, I guess-"

That turned out to be the wrong answer. They swarmed.

"How do you sleep at night knowing you're letting yet another monster haunt the already perilous streets?"

"Is it true that Mr. Jones doesn't have a lawyer yet because he eats potential prospects if they refuse to sell him their souls?"

"How much are Jones's people paying you to defend him and is it enough to ease your guilty and blood stained conscious?"

"Are the rumors about mafia involvement true?"

"Did Mr. Jones ever return those kidnapped orphans and puppies?"

"Can you tell us why the government is trying to suppress this story?"

"What planet is Mr. Jones actually from?"

"Enough! No more questions!" A familiar voice shouted. Someone grabbed my shoulder and dragged me away from the media mob, but that only succeeded at transferring their questions to him instead.

"Mr. Edgeworth, is it true that the President asked you personally to step into this case when all the other prosecutors ran away scared?"

"Mr. Edgeworth, has Mr. Jones or his men made any threat to your life as of yet?"

"Mr. Edgeworth, has Mr. Jones really been eating all of the other prosecutors' livers with some fava beans and a nice Chianti?"

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth slammed the door to the detention center behind us after he pulled me through it.

"This is a high profile case, Wright, the kind they eat up. You can't let your guard down for a second or answer any of their questions if you can. It would be troublesome if this case got any more publicity than it already has," he blinked, "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Alfred's brother asked me to defend him. What are you doing here?"

"Apparently not only is the defendant lacking a defense attorney, they have yet to bring in a prosecutor. Every eligible prosecutor in the city and the states of Virginia and Maryland refuse to take this case, so they called me in."

"…He's not actually-"

"No, he isn't eating anyone. They all have some convoluted notion that he's actually innocent and refuse to accept the case. Preposterous. I've seen the case file, Wright; the boy is guilty."

"You say that about everyone."

"The police already have a mountain of evidence against him. The murder weapon was his gun, found with him at the crime scene. There's a witness as well. Look at the autopsy report."

_Ben Smith  
Age: 62  
Gender: Male  
Victim. Congressman from New Jersey. Was working on some anti-mob legislation before his death._

_Cause of death: One bullet wound to the heart. Bullet recovered matches the gun found at the scene.  
Time of death: Between 9-10 PM on March 10._

"Allegedly Jones works for the government as well, but no one knows what his actual job is."

"Why are you even at the Detention Center? You usually don't involve yourself with the defendant."

"The local Prosecutor's Office refuses to let me on the case until I meet with Jones for some reason."

"So you haven't met him yet?"

"No, have you?"

"No, I'm not even officially on the case yet."

"I suppose that makes two of us then."

We were able to get in to see Alfred Jones easy enough despite it being past visiting hours. They were expecting Edgeworth and my note from Matthew was all I needed to convince them of who I was; I didn't even need to show them my badge. We didn't have to wait very long before they let us see him.

Alfred looked almost exactly like his brother, except his hair was shorter and had one sticking out above his forehead where his brother's just curled. His glasses were also a bit different, squarer where Matthew's were round; he gave off a far more confidant aura, and, despite his circumstances, was still smiling.

_Alfred F. Jones  
Age: 19  
Gender: Male  
Defendant. Works for the American Government. Has a bit of a hero complex._

"Are you the new lawyers?" he asked with a laugh, "I know they're having trouble finding a prosecutor, but did they really need to send two?"

"I'm the prosecutor. He's your new defense," Edgeworth said, as if he was insulted that I would even be mistaken for his colleague.

"I told them I don't want a defense lawyer."

"Do you think you can actually provide a satisfactory defense for yourself then?"

"It's not that. It's just, well, I don't have the money to pay for a lawyer right now."

"That's why the state can-"

"Yeah, but that's the taxpayer's money! I don't want them to use that for me either! We're in the middle of a recession you know!"

I was stunned. Edgeworth must have been too. I don't think he'd ever heard that one before.

"Mr. Jones, your brother offered to pay me already, so-"

"Well, I don't want Matt to pay for my lawyer either. It's not that I don't appreciate your help, I really do. It's just, the money for my lawyer could go to so many other things. Why waste it on me?"

(So that's what Matt meant by being and idiotic idealist…I'm not that bad am I?)

"Mr. Jones, are you even aware of the situation you're in right now?"

"I've been falsely accused of murdering a Congressman. It wasn't me though and I can prove it!"

"Really?" Edgeworth was skeptical. "Do tell."

"The last words he said to me were, 'It's a trap.' That means I'm being framed!"

"So you admit to being there when he died?" Edgeworth tapped his fingers on his arm.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"And no one else was around to hear this 'final words,' correct?"

"Yes, but-"

"So how do I know you aren't lying?"

"Because I'm not." There was something in his eyes that made me believe that that was the truth, and I'm sure Edgeworth saw it too, but being Edgeworth, he probably didn't believe it.

"What about the gun? The murder weapon is your gun, correct?"

"Yes, but I'm not the one that shot it. Someone stole it from me."

"And you didn't notice?"

"Well, I have a lot of guns. And a tank."

(What's he doing with a tank!? Scratch that, I don't want to know…)

"The police didn't find anything on you when they brought you in…"

"Yeah, I only had one on me that day because I was, doing something."

"It wouldn't happen to have been the murder weapon, would it?"

"How did you know that?"

(For some reason I feel like the mountain of evidence collapsed on me…and he's not officially my client yet.)

"Oh, I get it, you still think I did it," this only seemed to amuse him, as he grinned even wider. "Well I hate to disappoint, but as I told you, that gun was stolen and it wasn't in my possession when the murder took place."

"And you have something other than your word to prove this I assume?"

"Of course I, wait, no. My word is all I got."

"Figures."

"Ah!" he snapped his fingers, "Arthur! Just ask Arthur. He'd know."

(Arthur?)

"Arthur?"

"Arthur Kirkland. He was with me for most of the day."

"Was he with you when the murder took place?"

"Um, no."

"Then he's not very helpful is he? Mr. Jones, you have yet to even slightly convince me that you are anything other than a cold blooded murderer."

"Well, you're the prosecutor. You're not supposed to believe me. But still," he looked through the glass, straight into Edgeworth's eyes, "I didn't kill him. I _couldn't_ kill him. There's no way I would ever kill one of my own Congressmen."

And I believed him. There was just something about him that, even with that mountain of evidence stacked against him and the media writing him off as some kind of demon, you couldn't help but believe him. I couldn't explain it, but right then, I knew I had to make sure he got off.

"Mr. Jones," I said, "I'm going to defend you."

He and Edgeworth looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "I'm not going to pay you."

"I know. I'll do it pro bono."

"That's pretty kinky sounding. You know the prosecutor's here, right? That's really unprofessional."

(What?)

"That means he'll do it for free."

(Is Edgeworth chuckling?)

"Oh, that makes more sense. You don't have to if you don't want to, you know."

"I know, but I want to. I believe you're innocent and I want to make sure you walk free."

Alfred's grin grew wider, if that was possible, as he laughed, "Awesome! Thank you so much!"

"This is all well and good, because I'm afraid I believe you to be innocent as well." The smile vanished from Alfred's face for the first time all meeting.

"Really? You too?"

"My apologies, but I'm afraid I cannot take your case."

"What?!" I asked, "Sure you can. You can just, you know, let me win."

"He can't! The process won't work!"

"I would be making a complete mockery of the entire justice system if I prosecuted a man I thought was innocent. Surely even you are aware of that, Wright?"

(Still would make my job easier though…)

"I, doubt you'll be able to find a prosecutor in America willing to prosecute me," he sighed, "At this rate I'll be in here forever."

"We'll see about that. If I can't prosecute you, then I'll make it my job to find someone who can."

The guards came in to take Alfred back to his cell shortly after, but I promised him I'd be back tomorrow to talk to him some more.

The mob of reporters was gone by the time we made it outside again, which was good, because I really didn't need the added pressure after officially taking this case.

"Don't you think it's strange?" Edgeworth asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"His last comment, about no one in America wanting to prosecute him. Don't you think it's strange?"

"I, guess?"

He sighed, "The media's playing him out to be some heartless fiend. Alfred Jones is probably the most hated man in America right now, so why won't any prosecutor think he's guilty?"

"Well, you've met him."

"Exactly. Something about him just, makes me believe him. I'm not sure. In about five minutes I won't know what I was thinking."

"So you _do_ think he's guilty?"

"Yes, no, maybe. I know he is, all the evidence points to it, but, I _feel_ like he isn't."

"I didn't know you could feel."

"Quiet you! Anyway, I want to look into this some more."

(Only you would want to look into your emotions…wait-) "But I figured, since you feel he's innocent and all you could possibly help me."

"You can do your own job Wright." He turned and left, shouting, "If he's really innocent, then you should have no problems with this case," over his shoulder.

(In theory…now where was that hotel?)


	4. Day 0: End

**Whoops sorry for taking forever with the whole updating thing I'll get better one day maybe I promise sorta kinda probably maybe someday. I'll make it a New Year's Resolution when that comes around, those are always flawless.  
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**Btw, the next update will happen before New Year's. Promise.  
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**Enjoy.  
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**March 15, 6:00 PM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel.**

I didn't have too much trouble finding the hotel. Matt was there waiting for me in the lobby, along with a blond man I had never seen before and a polar bear.

(Is that a real polar bear?!)

"Oh good, you found it okay. I was starting to worry you might get lost," Matt said.

"This is the lawyer?" the man sneered as he sized me up, "He doesn't look like much. His hair is so spiky."

(I'm standing right here! And you're one to talk with your…silky blond locks of perfection…)

"Don't look at me like that, _Monsieur _Lawyer."

"Sorry, I didn't introduce you did I? Mr. Wright, this is my friend, Francis Bonnefoy. He works for the French Government."

"_Bonsoir, Monsieur_ Lawyer. Honestly though, I wouldn't be trusting you with our dear Alfred's case if it weren't for your charming assistant."

_Name: Francis Bonnefoy  
Age: 26  
Gender: Male  
A friend. Works for the French Government. Was in town the day of the murder. Likes beautiful things._

(For some reason I don't want this guy anywhere near Maya.) "Where is Maya?"

"She's upstairs sleeping. But, um, there's a problem with the rooms."

"What?" (You said you'd take care of it…)

"I'm sorry! Just talk to Ludwig, he's the one who takes care of these things."

"Alright, where is he?"

"He's at the bar with Gilbert, I believe," Francis butt in, "you should go rest too, Mathieu, you've had a long day. I will take care of _Monsieur _Lawyer for you."

(For some reason I'm uncomfortable with the way he said that…and the look he's giving me.)

"Well, alright, I'll wait for you in the room," he gave one last look to Francis, "Don't hurt him, please. Alfred needs him," with that, Matt and the polar bear (It is real!) went over to the elevators.

"Now, come with me. Ludwig shouldn't be too drunk yet," Francis forcefully grabbed my arm and dragged me through the lobby.

"I suppose," he started after he let go of me and led me around a few hallways, "that you are wondering why so many people from all over the world are here, yes? Or did Mathieu explain it?"

"Um, he mentioned something on the plane about a meeting?"

"_Oui_. _Monsieur _Lawyer, everybody currently staying at this hotel, save for you and your lovely assistant, all hold the same position in different governments."

"And what position is that?"

He smirked, "That's classified. We were, however, supposed to have our semiannually regular meeting the day after the murder took place."

"Supposed to?"

"We can't really have it now that Alfred's in jail, with him being the host and everything."

"I guess not. What's this meeting about anyway?"

"That too is classified."

(Then why bring it up?) "Can you tell me anything about it?"

"It was supposed to be for a week, but has been postponed until after Alfred's trial. Most of the others have gone home already. However some are staying for the trial."

"Will I be able to talk to them?"

Francis shook his head, "That is up to them. Most of them arrived the day after the murder anyway. I doubt they will know much."

"How many did stay?"

"I can't tell you off the top of my head. Ludwig should know. I do know that everyone who came early and was here on the day of the murder is still here."

(That's…actually helpful.) "Did a lot of you come in early?"

"_Non_, just a few, each of us for various reasons."

"So, you're one of the ones that came early?"

"_Oui_. I came early to bug Arthur, who was also coming early, for his own reasons."

(Arthur? Didn't Alfred mention an Arthur?) "Why did he come early?"

"That, I don't know."

By this time we had made it to the bar area where I could clearly see two men, one blond and one albino, sitting and drinking, with the bartender keeping a careful eye on them.

"Oh, Ludwig! Gilbert!" Francis called out. The blond cringed while the albino looked up and grinned.

"Francis! I was wondering where you wandered off to! Who's the new guy?"

"This is the lawyer Mathieu found for Alfred. _Monsieur _Wrong."

"Wright," I corrected, "Phoenix Wright."

"Right, you'll need your room assignment." The blond put his drink down and shuffled through some papers that he had with him.

"I don't know," the albino said, sizing me up. "He looks weak."

(Who asked you?!)

"It's the hair, Gilbert, don't you agree?" Francis agreed.

"Must be it. Far too spiky. Too distracting in a real battle, you'd never last long, but you might be able to head butt someone in a fight."

(What on earth is he talking about?) "Do you really work for the government?"

"Not anymore," Gilbert chugged the rest of his drink before continuing, "I leave all the boring stuff to West here. Isn't that right?"

"I wouldn't complain if you shouldered some responsibility every now and then, _Bruder_."

"Oh, you know you like it. Wouldn't have dragged us here early if you didn't," Ludwig blushed as his brother cackled.

_Ludwig Wiellschmidt  
Age: 20  
Gender: Male  
Works for the German government. Was in town on the day of the murder. Seems to be organizing everything._

_Gilbert Wiellschmidt  
Age: 25  
Gender: Male  
Used to work for the German government. Was in town on the day of the murder. A bit of a hooligan._

"Why did you come in early?"

"What are we on trial or something?" Gilbert barked, "I know how you lawyer types think, and you're not getting nothing out of me!"

(…Wouldn't that mean I'm definitely getting something out of you? Double negatives and all that.)

"I always come a day early," Ludwig answered, "especially if it's in America or Italy. The hosts are incompetent with these kinds of things."

"West," Gilbert whined, "you're no fun…"

"Do you know who else was here the day before?"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow, "Why do you need to know?"

I shrugged, "It could help me figure out what Alfred was doing that day and get a clear idea of what was going on. It couldn't hurt to talk to them."

"Alfred was busy. None of us saw much of him except Arthur," he leaned back a bit and stared at the bar, "Arthur and Francis got in before us."

"Our flight landed at about tenish," Francis supplied.

"Our flight came in at 11:15. Feliciano and Lovino Vargas landed at noon. That was it for the first day."

"Are they around? I'd like to see if they saw anything."

"Why?" Gilbert piped in, "You think one of us did it?"

"I'm just trying to piece together what happened. If Alfred was supposed to be with you guys-"

"He wasn't. Not until the next day when the meeting started. That day was a free day. He was with Arthur," Gilbert finished off his beer (Didn't even notice he got a new one…). "Well, I was here with Francis that night, I think. Ask the bartender, I'm sure he remembers us."

(You think?) "You're not sure?"

"Gilbert was pretty, how you say, wasted that night," Francis sighed, "He was here though, I can vouch for that, and the bartender _definitely _remembers us."

The bartender gave me a nod and a glared at Gilbert, who muttered an apology and ordered another beer.

"I was sightseeing with Feliciano," Ludwig said, "and we didn't see anything."

"So where were Arthur and Alfred all day? And what was the other Vargas up to?"

"Around," his eyes narrowed, "You'll have to ask them yourself. It's hard enough keeping tabs on my brother, Mr. Wright. I can't possibly know where everyone is all the time, as convenient as that would be," Ludwig handed me the room key for 204 and looked up something on a list. "Because we booked the entire hotel, there were no free rooms left, so you'll have to take Alfred's, since he's not using it. In order to cut back on international incidents from happening during these meetings we have managed, through trial and error, to come up with a roommate system that works, for the most part. Since you're taking Alfred's room, you'll be rooming with Arthur Kirkland."

(Well that saves me the trouble of tracking him down.) "Where's Maya staying?"

"A lot of people haven't bothered coming yet when they heard about what happened, so she took one of theirs. She's staying in room 210 with Elizaveta Hedervary from Hungary."

"So her and Specs came after all?" Gilbert laughed, but it seemed forced, "she told me she wasn't coming…"

Francis shook his head, "Probably because she wants nothing to do with you, _mon ami_."

"Will you be able to find the room on your own?" Ludwig asked.

"Yeah," I nodded, "I should be fine."

"You just seem don't seem like a very reliable person. Ah, no offense," he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, "This whole incident has us very shaken and we all want Alfred to get off. Forgive me if I'm rude, I'm just, concerned. I'm sure you're a halfway decent lawyer. Matt must have picked you for a reason after all."

"There are better lawyers in Germany," Gilbert muttered.

"You should go rest, _Monsieur _Lawyer," Francis put his hand on my shoulder and led me away from the bar, "You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, _oui_?"

* * *

**March 15, 7:30 PM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel, Second Floor.**

I took my leave and went up to the second floor, deciding to stop by Maya's room first.

(Which room was she in again? 212 right?) I knocked on the door and a tall blond man with glasses answered it with the scariest expression on his face that I've ever seen.

"Hn?" he grunted.

"Berwald?" a man shouted from inside the room, "Is that room service?"

"S-sorry! Wrong room!" He grunted again and closed the door.

(I wonder where he's from…anyway, I guess Maya's was 210 then.)

After knocking on this door, a woman with a flower clip in her brown hair answered.

"Oh, are you the lawyer?" she asked.

"Yeah, my name's Phoenix Wright. Is Maya here?"

"She's sleeping right now, but I'll tell her you stopped by. What room are you staying in?"

"204. I'm staying with someone named Arthur? What do you know about him?"

"Oh," her expression softened, "I'm sorry. He can be a bit hard to deal with, especially now that he's worried about Alfred. I don't think I've seen much of him since I've gotten here."

"Are they close?"

"Arthur and Alfred?" she smirked and got a gleam in her eye that made me uncomfortable, "Very. Their relationship is a bit 'special' if you know what I mean."

(I have no idea what you mean.) "Um, okay…"

"Speaking of, Maya and I were talking before, and she told me about you and your prosecutor friend, Mr. Edgeworth?" the gleam intensified, "I heard he was supposed to be the prosecutor for Alfred's trial."

(That gleam's starting to scare me…) "Yeah, but he can't do it. He's looking for someone else."

"Is that so?" the gleam got worse, "Well, have a good night Mr. Wright."

"You too…" she gently shut the door.

_Elizaveta Hedervary  
Age: 25  
Gender: Female  
Works for the Hungarian Government. Knows a lot about photography. Very interested in relationships between men._

I went to my room only to find no one there. The beds looked like they'd never been slept in and Arthur hadn't even unpacked his suitcase yet. Someone had already brought my stuff up, so I just kicked off my shoes and passed out on the bed.

(I'm going to need all the rest I can get if these are the people I'm going to have to deal with tomorrow.)

* * *

**My headcanon is that France likes to pepper French phrases in his English sentences because it pisses off England and it makes him feel better about speaking English. I only used 'yes,' 'no,' and 'Mr.' here, and it's not going to get any more complicated than that. Germany and Prussia will use German phrases when speaking to each other or... other German characters... but that won't go beyond 'yes,' 'no,' or 'Brother.' **

**That's pretty much it for the gratuitous foreign languages (and that one conversation in Italian, but that's much further down the line and not important), which I know is something I like to overuse to the point of abuse for no other reason then I like foreign languages and I like foreign characters speaking foreign languages even if I don't speak the foreign language that they are speaking. Let me know if it gets to be too much and I'll cut back on it, because that's the only way I'm going to get better.**


	5. Day 1: Investigation Part 1

**Sorry about that, the hurricane earlier this month caused a week long blackout which caused problems which meant it took forever and a half for me to edit this, but it's done now, so yeah! \o/  
**

**Enjoy.  
**

* * *

**March 16, 9:00 AM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel, Rm 204.**

"Nick…Nick…" Someone was poking my face, "Wake up Nick. We're going to miss breakfast…"

"Stop poking me," I muttered before rolling over and going back to sleep. Suddenly someone snatched the blanket away from my sleeping form, exposing it to the cold chill of the room.

"What the, oh, Maya it's you," I yawned before it hit me, "Wait, how did you get in here?"

"Some eyebrows guy let me in. Said I was being a git, whatever that is."

"Must've been my roommate, I guess. Was he even here?" A quick look around to room revealed everything to be exactly where it was the night before, save for a used teacup on the table.

(Did he even use the bed last night?)

"Say Nick," Maya was saying, "I heard from some of the others that you actually took the case?"

"Um, yeah."

"What?!" she shouted in my face, "How could you? He obviously did it! He's evil!"

"No, he's not, and he didn't do it. Even Edgeworth thought so."

"Huh? When did Mr. Edgeworth say that?"

"He was there yesterday-"

"He must have used his evil mind-control abilities on Mr. Edgeworth! I heard all about them on the news this morning! It's the only explanation!"

(Or Alfred Jones could be innocent…actually the way Edgeworth was talking yesterday it might have been mind control.)

"You can decide for yourself when we go and see him later. What was that about breakfast?"

"It's set up downstairs. Most of the others are already there, and there are a lot of them, so if we don't hurry we won't get anything!" She grabbed my arm and dragged me out of bed to the door.

"Hold on! I need to get ready first! Just, wait outside!" Reluctantly she agreed, and ten minutes later we went down to the lobby.

* * *

**March 16, 9:15 AM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel, Lobby.**

"Wow," I said as I scanned the lobby, "there sure are a lot more people here than there were last night."

"More came in this morning," Matt said, "mostly to watch the trial, since the meeting is currently postponed indefinitely."

"Oh Matt! Sorry I didn't see you there…"

"It's alright, it happens all the time."

"So, everyone's here for the trial? Are they all Alfred's friends?"

"Not really. To be honest, well, according to him and a few select others, he doesn't have very many friends. It's possible most people are here just to make fun of him. But it's fine, because they would be doing that anyway at the meeting."

"How sad," Maya said.

"I thought you hated the guy."

"I do, no offense Matt, but that doesn't make it not sad. Everyone should have friends, even no good lousy murderers."

"It's fine. Al tends to get on a lot of people's nerves, unfortunately.

"By the way, Matt, have you seen the Vargases around? I heard they were here on the night of the murder and I wanted to talk to them."

"I haven't seen all that much of Lovino, but that's nothing new. Feliciano is probably still at breakfast. Ludwig should know where he is, but I don't think either of them have anything to do with this."

"You never know, one of them might have seen or heard something. Thanks."

He waved as we walked towards where breakfast was being served, and on the way saw Ludwig and Gilbert talking in rapid German to…

"Franziska von Karma?" Maya exclaimed, "What's she doing here?"

"She's probably here for the trial. Edgeworth said he would call another prosecutor in, but I wasn't expecting her. I'm not really in the mood to get whipped this early in the morning."

"Then let's just go. I've already eaten anyway."

(But what about me? I'm still hungry…)

Just as we were leaving the hotel however, Maya accidently bumped into someone, making them both to fall to the ground.

"Ve that hurt," the man exclaimed, rubbing his head as he sat up, "Ah, but you're a cute girl, so it's okay. Are you alright Miss?"

"Yeah, sorry, that was my fault."

"It's okay, I wasn't paying attention. I was trying to avoid the scary-whip-lady talking to Ludwig. She's cute and all, but she's already whipped me three times, and I only just met her."

"Yeah that sounds like Franziska."

"You know her? Oh, you must by the lawyer-guy Francis was talking about! My name is Feliciano Vargas. I'm just a silly little Italian boy who likes pasta and pizza, and I didn't kill anyone, so there's no need to talk to me."

(Why does everyone think I suspect them?)

_Feliciano Vargas  
Age: 20  
Gender: Male  
Works for the Italian Government. Was in town the day of the murder. Likes pasta, painting, and cute girls._

"Uh, no, I don't think you did it. I'm just trying to figure out what happened."

"Oh, okay!" the tension left him and he smiled brighter, "Then feel free to ask me anything!"

(He's suddenly more cooperative…)

"So, did you see Alfred at all on the day of the crime?"

"Um, not really. My flight came in from Italy late and I was hungry and the airplane guys wouldn't let me eat anything until after we landed. Oh! Yes! Alfred was at the airport!"

"He was?"

"Yes, he was the one who drove us to the hotel."

"Does he usually do that?"

"Not for meetings like this, when there's all of us, but sometimes if it's just me and Fratello coming in he'll meet us. Now that I think about it, he wasn't really talking very much the ride over."

"What happened after he dropped you off at the hotel?"

"Um, I found Ludwig and we went to lunch with Gilbert."

"What did Alfred do? He didn't just leave you there did he?"

"He said he had a meeting with Arthur later, but I don't know much about that."

"So, what did you do that night?"

"Ludwig and I were sightseeing."

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary while you were out?"

All of a sudden he clammed up. Chains appeared out of nowhere, followed shortly by four locks, but he couldn't see them. They were the psyche locks that my magatama lets me see, and it meant that Feliciano had a secret in his heart that he was trying desperately to hide.

"W-we didn't hear or see anything suspicious at all. Nope. Nothing odd or misplaced. Ludwig wouldn't stand for something out of the ordinary like that you know. Not at all."

(He's lying, but I have no clue why or what it could possibly be, so I'll press him on that later, I suppose.)

"Oh! I remember something! Right after we got to the hotel Alfred went to talk to Fratello about something!"

"Do you know what?"

"Probably about tomatoes or something."

"…Tomatoes?"

"Yeah, Fratello likes tomatoes, and Alfred does too."

(I don't think that would be a topic of discussion for two government officials, but there are no psyche locks this time. He really doesn't know, or Lovino does actually like tomatoes.)

"Do you know where your brother is? I'd like to talk to him too."

"No, sorry. He left right after breakfast. He might be in our room if you stop by later though. Room 226, just knock and someone will let you in!"

"Okay, thanks for your help."

"No problem! I don't want to see Alfred get in trouble for this, so I'm happy to help."

"Really?" Maya asked, confused, "with how Matt was talking, it made it seem like not a lot of people liked him. Not that I'm surprised, since he's the Devil's Spawn. "

(Why with every passing moment does he get more and more evil in your eyes?)

"Oh no! No no!" he frantically waved his hands about, "You shouldn't base your opinion of Alfred on his reputation! He's not the easiest to get along with, and while we're not the closest of friends, I've never spent much time with him and he's really very scary if you're on his bad side, I doubt anyone here wants Alfred to be found guilty."

"Why's that?"

Feliciano blinked, and then smiled, "It just wouldn't make any sense!"

(…What does that mean?)

"Oh, scary-whip-lady is gone, so that means Ludwig is free! Ciao!" With quick kisses on several cheeks and a hearty wave he ran off to talk to Ludwig and Gilbert.

"So now what, Nick?"

"I think we need to talk to Alfred again."

* * *

**March 16, 10:05 AM. Detention Center.**

The media mob wasn't at the Detention Center today, and Maya and I were taken to see Alfred right away.

"Oh hey! You're back!" Alfred grinned at us, "Guess what? Edgeworth found a prosecutor who thinks I'm guilty! Isn't that great?"

"You're, happy about that?"

"Yeah! Now we can go to trial and finally get this whole thing over and done with. It's tomorrow, by the way. I'm not sure if anyone's told you yet."

(They haven't…)

"He got you there Nick."

"Oh, is this your assistant?"

"Yeah, this is Maya. Maya, this is our client Alfred. Feel free to pass judgment on him."

His smile faded the slightest bit, "You think I did it, didn't you?"

"Yes. Well no. Maybe? I'm not sure anymore."

He chuckled, "I don't blame you. The media has been going all out with this, but I'd like it if you made your own judgments of me, Miss Maya."

Maya thought about it for a good long while, "No, I think you're innocent."

Alfred smiled. I was just confused.

"You were convinced of his guilt just five minutes ago."

"Yeah, but he smells like freedom. You can't not trust a guy who smells like freedom. I like him."

(I don't think freedom has a smell.)

"Anyway, Mr. Jones, do you mind if we ask you a few things?"

"Ask away! I'm here to help you help me."

"Mr. Jones, what were you doing the night of the murder?"

"I was being arrested for a murder I didn't commit."

"No, before that."

"Running to an alleyway to witness a murder?"

(Is he being difficult on purpose or…?) "Why were you by the alleyway?"

"It was on the way back to the hotel. I had just left Arthur and was walking back when I heard the first gunshot."

"You and Arthur were heading to the same place, weren't you?" Maya asked, "Why did you leave him?"

Alfred pouted. "He was being mean, getting all in my face like that. He knew the way to the hotel, and I was tired of dealing with him, so I just walked away."

(Is it really okay to leave your friend alone in a foreign city like that!?)

"Arthur's tough, and he's been here before, so he was fine. No worries."

(Is he reading my mind?!)

"No, your face just makes it kinda obvious what you're thinking," Alfred smirked.

I cleared my throat and continued, "What were the two of you doing before that?"

"Uh, I can't really talk about that. It's not important to the case at all, just classified government stuff and all that."

"We were talking with Feliciano before," Maya said, "and he said that you picked him and his brother up at the airport."

"Yeah, I don't know if you know this, but Italian drivers are crazy. Plus I needed to talk to Lovino about something, so two birds with one stone and all that."

"What did you need to talk to Lovino about?" I asked.

"Sorry, I can't say. It's just classified government stuff."

(If I get much more of this 'classified government stuff' things are going to get pretty annoying real fast.)

"You mentioned you heard the first gunshot, what happened after that?"

"Um," his brow wrinkled in thought, "I heard the gunshot, went to see what was going on, heard the second gunshot, then got there."

"What did you see?"

"Well, the congressman wasn't dead yet, but he was pretty close. I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned to see what made it nothing was there. I went to try to help the congressman, but it didn't really do much, and that's it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, well, there was a lot of blood, does that count?"

"You didn't actually see anyone else in that alley?"

He bit his lip and looked away, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he stared stubbornly at the wall.

"…Can you look me in the eye and say that please?"

He did, "I didn't see anyone else in that alley."

Chains from nowhere wrapped around the area, accompanied by six locks this time.

(Psyche locks? Here? Why would Alfred lie to me?)

"Mr. Jones, you're a horrible liar."

"I-I'm not lying!" he blushed and slammed his hands on the table in front of him, "No one else was there, I swear!"

"…If you say so."

(He's definitely lying; someone else was in that alley. Who is he covering for, and why is it worth the risk?)


	6. Day 1: Investigation Part 2

**Hello my friends I am back. Sorry about that really long, unnecessary lack of anything, but between the holidays and some personal stuff I couldn't get around to updating. To make it up to you, have two chapters today.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**March 16, 10:33 AM. Alleyway.**

Eventually Alfred had to be taken away for more questioning, so Maya and I decided to see if we could find any clues at the crime scene.

"I'm pretty sure the police turned the alley inside and out," I pointed out, "After all, this was a government official that got killed by another government official."

"You never know until you check! Don't give up so easily Nick!"

(Wow, there are a lot of cops patrolling this alley. I guess that makes sense; this is a high profile case. Still, that's going to make it difficult to get anywhere near the alley, let alone poke around in it.)

"Well if you two aren't the very last people I'd thought I'd find here!" a far too familiar voice shouted.

(What on earth is he doing here?)

"D-detective Gumshoe!" Maya spluttered, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same about you, pal. The guys here need all the help they can get with this case, so they sent out a call for any available homicide detectives across the nation. It's been kinda slow at the station lately, so the Chief thought I'd be more productive here!"

(More like he just wanted you out of his hair.)

"So what _are _you two doing here?"

"We're Alfred's defense team!" Maya exclaimed.

"Really? I hate to break it to you pal, but that boy's-"

"Guilty beyond all doubt. You have a mountain of evidence. Media's making him out to be a monster," I sighed, "Yeah, Edgeworth told me all that yesterday."

"Mr. Edgeworth's here?! Is he heading the prosecution?"

"Nope!" Maya smiled, "He thinks he's innocent!"

"What? Mr. Edgeworth actually thinks someone's innocent?"

(It looks like he's rethinking his whole life's purpose.)

"Alright pal! I've decided to help you as much as I can. If even Mr. Edgeworth thinks this Jones kid didn't do it, then he didn't do it!"

"Is that okay? Aren't you on the investigation team that's trying to put him in jail?"

"To be honest with ya pal, they actually kicked me off the investigating team."

"What? Really?" Maya exclaimed, "Then what are you doing here?"

"The local police are done with the crime scene. I was just sent here to keep an eye out for some British guy that keeps poking his head around here."

"Oh! Does he have these huge eyebrows that look like caterpillars?"

"That's the guy, pal. You've seen him around?"

"I saw him this morning. He's Nick's new roommate."

"…Huh?"

"Alfred's brother is putting us up in a hotel room for the trial," I explained, "Apparently there was some international meeting that was supposed to happen, but because Alfred's in jail it didn't, so I got Alfred's room and roommate."

"Well, when you see him again, tell him to stop poking around in this case and let the police do their jobs, okay, pal?"

"Got it. Can we get a closer look at the crime scene?"

"What? You guys are civilians! I can't just let you wander around a crime scene unsupervised."

"But didn't you just say you'd do anything in your power to help us?" Maya pointed out.

"But…"

"And _you'd_ be there supervising us anyway," I added.

"Well, that's true," he sighed and stepped aside to let us duck under the police tape, "Alright fine, but be quick about it."

The white tape around where the body was found was lying in the middle of the alley. Crates were pushed up along the sides of the alley and other general alley trash was scattered here and there, but other than that the area was clear and clean, too clean for any crime scene.

"Hey, where's all the blood and stuff?" Maya complained.

"The police already carted off everything that they thought was useful," Gumshoe explained, "Not that there was much to begin with. It rained that night and washed all the blood and any useful DNA and fingerprints away with it."

_Weather Data for March 10:  
Heavy downpour starting at around up at around midnight and ended at 3:30 AM on March 11._

(What?) "But everyone keeps talking about this mountain of evidence! There can't be nothing!"

"Whoa, relax there, pal. I never said there was nothing, just no DNA or fingerprints. Jones was found covered in the victim's blood right after he died, with the murder weapon and everything."

"But if his prints weren't on the gun, then there's no way they can prove he fired it. Anyone could have."

"It was his gun. He was the only one in the alley. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together and come up with Jones as the killer."

(There has to be some other explanation.)

"Alfred said he saw someone else though," Maya thought out loud, "whoever that was must be the real killer!"

"Hate to break it to you, but there's no way that's possible. Jones was the only one in the alley when the police showed up."

"So, the real killer must have escaped before they showed up."

"To where? This alley's a dead end, pal. Look," Gumshoe pulled out a hastily drawn diagram of the alley, "the body was here," he pointed to an area near the end of the alley, "and the suspect was here," a circle was drawn between the body and the alley's entrance, "Where would your real killer have escaped to pal?"

_Diagram of the Alleyway.  
A diagram of the crime scene. Press Check for more details…whatever that means._

"The real killer snuck past him! There's plenty of room!"

"Yeah, but the police weren't that far behind. The cops at the scene showed up not even a full minute after the shots were fired. They would have seen him."

"And Alfred said he only thought he glimpsed someone," I added, "If the real killer got that close, I'm sure he would have had a better look, and probably had done something about it."

"Nick, you're not helping your case here!"

"What about this right here?" I pointed out a small gap between two buildings that someone might be able to slip though, "Maybe the real killer escaped this way?"

"Hey you're right! Maybe the killer did slip away after all!"

"Where's the gap?" Maya looked around, "I don't see it."

"It's right there," I pointed, "behind, those crates."

"So your miracle gap was blocked off pal?"

"…Maybe the crates weren't there when murder took place?"

"The police have been all over this alley since the night of the murder, pal. Nobody would have had the chance."

(Something's not right. Alfred definitely saw someone else, even if he won't tell me who. How did that person get away? Unless-he let the real killer escape! And he's lying to cover it up!)

"What's up, pal? You've got that look on your face like you've just figured something really important out."

"Oh, it's nothing."

"If you say so. Whoa! Is that the time?"

"What's wrong?"

"It's time to switch shifts. You guys better get out of here before my replacement shows up."

Not wanting to get him or us in trouble, we decided to go back to the hotel.

* * *

**March 16, 11:10 AM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel, Lobby.**

(Well, the lobby's empty now. No sign of Franziska or the other guests. Guess they're out sightseeing or something.) Just then I heard a piano melody play.

"What a pretty tune," Maya said.

"Don't let him hear you, it'll go straight to his already inflated ego," Gilbert stated, rather loudly, as he came up behind us and headed towards the piano on the other side of the lobby. Elizaveta was sitting next to a man who was playing the piano.

"The only one with an over inflated ego here is you," Elizaveta glared. The man kept playing.

"You know you love me," he responded, "What're you guys still doing here anyway?"

"That's none of your business!"

The man finished his song and looked up, noticing the crowd that had gathered around him. "Oh, Gilbert, when did you get here?"

"Same as ever, Specs. You'll never beat me if you can't pay attention to your surroundings."

"You must be the lawyer and his assistant," he ignored Gilbert and stood to greet us. "Roderich Edelstein. Austria."

_Roderich Edelstein  
Age: 25  
Gender: Male  
Works for the Austrian Government. A musician with an aristocratic aura. _

"Phoenix Wright. And this is Maya Fey."

"Nice to meet you!"

"Pleasure. Ludwig asked me to keep an eye out for you so I could give this to you."

_Arrivals for March 10. DAY 0:  
Hotel Check-in – 9:00 AM: Alfred F. Jones (US).  
London-Washington DC – 10:10 AM: Arthur Kirkland (UK) and Francis Bonnefoy (Fra).  
Berlin-Washington DC – 11:15 AM: Ludwig (Ger) and Gilbert Wiellschimdt (Pru).  
Rome-Washington DC – 12:00 PM: Lovino ( ) and Feliciano Vargas ( ).  
__Ottawa-Washington DC – 1:25 PM: Matthew Williams (Cnd).__ ARRIVING DAY 5  
__Madrid-Washington DC – 2:30 PM: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (Sp).__ ARRIVING DAY 1_

"He said you were asking about it before, so he went and made a copy for you."

"Oh, well, tell him thanks. Do you mind clarifying some things on it for me?"

"It's Ludwig's list, but I shall answer your inquiries to the best of my ability."

(Thanks, I think.) "What's with the abbreviations?"

"Those are everyone's nationalities. It's more of a formality than anything. Ludwig is very thorough."

"What does Gilbert's Pru stand for? And what's with the distinction between South and North Italy?"

"You'll have to ask Ludwig about that. Those are his notes, not mine."

"I thought Antonio was supposed to show up the day before!" Gilbert exclaimed, looking over my shoulder at the list, "Do you know what happened?"

"Of course I don't, you moron. I was just handed the list; how would I know something like that?"

"Hey, no need to get so snippy with me! I was just asking!"

"Maybe we should go before we get dragged into this," Maya whispered as their shouting escalated.

"Good idea. Let's go see if Lovino is in."


	7. Day 1: Investigation Part 3

**Hello my friends, you have reached the second chapter that I have updated today. If you got here using the fancy arrow-thing that takes you to the last chapter, please feel free to head back a chapter at this time, as most if not all of the following will make very little sense if you skip a chapter.**

**Thank you and enjoy. **

* * *

**March 16, 11:25 AM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel, Second Floor.**

"Which room was it again, Nick?"

"Um, 220?" Maya knocked.

A blond man wearing a miniskirt and a blouse answered the door.

"Liet," he called to someone in the room, "did you, like, order some weird strippers again?"

(S-Strippers?! Why does he think we're strippers?)

"No, we're lawyers!" (Why is she not fazed by the fact that he thought we were strippers?!) "We're looking for the Vargas' room?"

"Oh, they're, like, totally in 226, you know."

"Thank you!" He shut the door.

(Sometimes I worry about the world if these are the people in charge.)

Maya knocked on the correct door this time, and a man with green eyes and curly brown hair answered the door.

"Hola! May I help you?"

"You idiot! I told you not to answer!" Someone shouted from inside, "Get your ass back over here and help me damnit!"

"Uh, we're looking for Lovino Vargas, but I guess we have the wrong room."

"No no! You have the right room! I'm just helping out," The man smiled and opened the door to let us in. "Lovino, you have guests!"

"Antonio, you bastard! Don't let people in other people's rooms on your own accord!"

_Antonio Fernandez Carriedo  
Age: 25  
Works for the Spanish government. Has a sunny disposition. Likes tomatoes and cute things._

_Lovino Vargas  
Age: 22-23  
Works for the Italian government. Was in town on the day of the murder. Rude to men, but soft on women._

Lovino was sitting with his arm half-bandaged on the table in the center of the room. Apparently Antonio had been helping him with first-aid when he decided answering the door to be a top priority.

"Oops, you're out of ice Lovi!" He smiled cheerfully, "I'll just run out and get some more!"

"Wait, you idiot, who's going to-" but the door shut and he was left alone with us, "Um, do you mind?" he lifted his arm and asked Maya.

"No problem," she sat in Antonio's vacant seat and continued bandaging his arm.

"Mr. Vargas, my name's Phoenix Wright. That's my assistant, Maya Fey," Maya smiled as Lovino gave her a nod and return smile, "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Chains appeared out of nowhere again, along with too many locks to bother counting.

"You're Alfred's lawyer right? I'm not talking to anyone about anything. It's in your constitution right? I don't have to talk if I don't want to."

"Please Lovi," Maya asked, looking at him with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster.

After very brief moment of deliberation on Lovino's part, the psyche locks disappeared.

(Well that was easy.)

"Ah, I guess I can answer some questions, since you asked so nicely. What do you want to know about?"

"For starters, what happened to your arm?"

"I tripped. Next."

"But, wait-"

"I tripped. It's completely irrelevant to Alfred's case, which I assume is what you're here about. Next question or should I just kick you out?"

(What a poor attitude.) "You were here on the night of the murder, correct?"

"Yeah, for the meeting. That's why we're all here."

"But the meeting wasn't until the next day. Why did you come a day early?"

"Hmph," he scoffed and winced as Maya tightened his bandages, "My brother is an idiot, that's why."

"Can you elaborate for us a little, Lovi?" she asked.

"Well, you see, Feliciano knew that that potato-bastard Ludwig would come a day early. Since he hadn't seen him in a while he had the brilliant idea to come a day early too so they could hang out. I didn't want him to go alone, so I tagged along. That's not a crime is it, Mr. Lawyer?"

"Not to my knowledge," I cleared my throat and tried again. "What were you doing the night of the murder? I'm not accusing you," I added quickly, "I'm just trying to piece together what happened."

The chains came back, this time with only one lock.

"I-I don't see why that matters bastard! It's not like I was anywhere near a murder scene!"

(Why is he so defensive?) I sighed and pulled out my magatama. "TAKE THAT!"

"What the, why is it all creepy all of sudden? Is Ivan here?"

"Mr. Vargas, I'm going to need you to tell me where you were on the night of the murder."

"I, was out with Antonio. He wanted to go sightseeing."

"Really?"

"Yes really! It's not like you were here and can tell me different, jerk."

"Actually, Mr. Vargas, I do have something that shows without a doubt you were not with Antonio the night of the murder…TAKE THAT!" I showed him the arrivals list for March 10 that I received a few minutes ago from Roderich.

"Mr. Vargas, do you know what this is?"

"No, and I don't care, so you can take your paper and-"

"It's a list of everyone who arrived here on March 10. Antonio was supposed to show up, but it says that he didn't actually get here until the next day, the day after the murder."

"A-Alfred is, not very good with paper work. He must have been mistaken."

"I didn't get it from Alfred, I got it from Ludwig."

"…damnit."

The psyche lock broke and the chains disappeared.

"So where were you really on the night of the murder?"

He stared at the table and took a deep breath before answering, "I was with Gilbert and Francis. They were bar hopping and needed a third player. Since Antonio wasn't there they dragged me along."

(That's it?) "Why lie?"

"Have you met Gilbert and Francis? Plus they were so wasted they don't remember I was there, so it's not a very good alibi."

"I already said-"

"I know! But you can never be too careful when there's murder involved, especially since Alfred's taken an extra dose of stupid pills this week."

"What are you talking about?"

"Che, you're not much of an investigator are you."

Maya finished bandaging his arm and sat up,"What do you mean Lovi? Please tell us!"

Lovino sighed, "Since you asked so nicely," (I've been asking nicely the whole time!) "Well, you know we're all government officials by now, yes?" Maya and I nodded, "So, in this day and age where corruption runs rampart and governmental cover-ups are the norm, why do you think this case is so public?"

"Well, um, it's a murder case. A congressman was killed. It's much more serious than an affair or a bad check."

"Governments have been covering up nasty murders for centuries, believe me. And I'll let you in on a little secret: Alfred is much higher on the chain of command than some Congressman. With a word from him, this whole affair could be buried so deep the light of day is but a myth."

"So," Maya said, deep in thought, "you're saying that if Alfred could have, covered the whole thing up?"

"Exactly. It's completely within his power to pretend the whole incident never happened and dear Congressman Smith was killed by natural causes out of town. Or it was. Now It's spun out of his control, mostly due to his media being asshats and his inability to just shut the fuck up."

"What, but, that doesn't make sense!"

"Tell me about it."

(If Alfred could have just covered this up, why go through with the trial? Whoever he's protecting would be safer if this whole thing just went away! Why is he doing this?)

Just then Antonio chose to come back, holding the bucket of ice and talking on his cell phone in rapid Spanish.

"Lovino, you have a call," he said, handing the phone over.

"Damnit Antonio I don't want to talk to him!"

"Please? He says it's important." Lovino grumbled, but snatched the phone and started rambling something in Spanish.

"Sorry, but could you two come back later?" Antonio smiled, guiding us to the door, "This could take a while. You understand, si?" And with that we were locked out.

"Well now what?" Maya asked.

(How should I know?)

* * *

**March 16, 11:45 PM. Alleyway.**

"Nick," Maya complained, "Why are we back here? Gumshoe said the police already got everything."

"You never know. The police have missed stuff before."

"We're not supposed to be here though."

"Its fine, no one's here."

"Who's that?!" Maya quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me behind one of the crates as a figure came down the alley.

"Oh! I know you!" Maya jumped out, startling the man who backed up against the nearby wall.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted, "You gave me a fright there. What are you doing here?"

"Maya, who is this?"

"Eyebrows!"

"Eyebrows?" (They are really big, almost like caterpillars. Wait a moment, British, caterpillar eyebrows, why does that sound familiar?)

"Git. The name's Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland. Don't forget it."

_Arthur Kirkland  
Gender: Male  
Age: 23  
Works for the British government. Was with Alfred on the night of the crime. Says he's a gentleman, but has an abrasive personality._

"You're Alfred's lawyer right?" he asked, "I thought you looked familiar. Sorry I haven't been around much. I heard you wanted to speak with me?"

"Um, yeah, if you don't mind."

"Don't let his Britishness intimidate you Nick!" Maya whispered.

"Mr. Kirkland, how is it you know Mr. Jones?"

"Alfred and I go way back. A lot farther than I'd care to admit actually. Our relationship hasn't always been, pleasant, but it is better of late."

"Is that why you're roommates?"

"That is more of trial and error actually. Few people care to put up with Alfred's hero complex."

(I'm sure you have a few personality quirks of your own.)

"You were one of the people who came the day before right?"

"Yes, that's right. Alfred and I had a private meeting beforehand."

"But, I thought everyone was here for a meeting of some kind," Maya said, confused.

"Yes, we were, but Alfred and I needed to have a private meeting to go over some things before we went to the official meeting."

"So many meetings, must get boring after a while."

"I suppose, but there are some other perks about the job that keep it interesting. I'd tell you a bit more if I could, but-"

"Classified?" I guessed. "That's fine. Can you tell me about the night of the murder?"

"There's not much to tell. Alfred and I had our meeting, but I can't really say much about that."

"How many people were there, or was it just the two of you?"

"No, there were three of us, Alfred, his boss, and me. Well four technically if you count my boss, but he was only there through a video conference."

"Who's Alfred's boss?"

"I can't answer, classified and all that. You understand."

"What about-"

"My boss? Same problem. They are most certainly not involved in this in anyway, I can tell you that much."

"What happened after you left?" Maya chirped in, "Alfred said you had a fight."

"We usually do. The boy doesn't take criticism very well, which is a shame, because he needs it."

(The boy? He's only four years younger than you!)

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Unfortunately no, I can't. Sorry, but it's just about some classified government information."

(Why is everything classified?)

"One of the hazards of taking on a government case," Arthur shrugged, "Believe me though, if it had any relevance or was able to help get Alfred off, I would tell you."

"Um, Mr. Kirkland," Maya asked hesitantly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Why won't the police let you near the crime scene? The detective we talked to seemed pretty adamant about making sure you weren't allowed anywhere near here. And why are you here now?"

"Ah well," he blushed and looked away, "I've been looking for the second bullet ever since that night. The police-and the prosecutors-believe him to be lying about that since no one's been able to find it, but don't misunderstand! I'm not doing it for him! I'm doing this for myself!"

(What do you have to gain from trespassing on a crime scene to hunt for a lost bullet?)

"Why do they think he's lying?" I asked, "I've heard his story and it seems reasonable. Besides, Mr. Jones is a pretty bad liar."

"The prosecutors have this crazed theory that his bad lies cover up for when he really needs to lie, but that's not the point. They, um, have some convoluted sort of 'evidence' to suggest otherwise."

"What kind of evidence?"

"I can't reveal the prosecutor's case to you. That's almost like cheating."

"You've been talking to the prosecutors?"

"Well, yes, I'm sort of, er, a witness?" He blushed again and refused to make eye contact.

"What?"

(Edgeworth did mention something about this yesterday, but still, Arthur?)

"You witnessed the crime?!" Maya asked, completely shocked.

"Well, sort of, it's a bit, complicated."

"Did you see Alfred shot the guy or didn't you?" I asked.

"What the, of course I didn't! How could I see something that didn't happen?"

"Then how can you be a witness for the prosecution?"

Arthur blanched and swallowed. Suddenly chains sprang out of nowhere accompanied by several psyche locks.

"That's not really important right now, now is it? You chaps feeling famished? I could sure go for some fish and chips right now; blimey I haven't been this exhausted since that football match that one time…"

(More psyche locks. Why is it that everyone seems to have a secret? I guess whatever he's hiding I can get out of him at the trial tomorrow.)

"Have you been able to find the second bullet yet?" Maya asked.

"No, not yet, not that these bloody American cops will let me anywhere near the bleeding alleyway."

"Well there don't seem to be any now, why don't we look together?"

"I've been searching for it for days," Arthur said, "I doubt you'll be able to just waltz in here and-"

"Found it!" Maya practically squealed.

"You, what now?"

"It's right there," She pointed up near the top of the right wall, and sure enough, after Arthur and I came to examine the spot where she was pointing, there was what appeared to be a bullet hole, complete with a bullet.

"Brilliant," Arthur mumbled, "How are we supposed to get it out to check if it's the correct one?"

"I'm sure we'll think of something." (I just wonder how it got up there in the first place.)

_Second Bullet  
Another bullet found in the alleyway. Found in the wall above where the murder took place. No way to check for ballistics yet._

"Hey! What are you three doing here?" A police officer shouted from the other end of the alley.

"Bollocks, they've switched shifts finally," Arthur muttered.

"W-we were just leaving."

"See that you do! This is a crime scene you know."

After that, Arthur agreed to treat us to lunch and take us back to the hotel so we could prepare our defense. There wasn't much and there were still a few questions left to be answered, but perhaps the trial tomorrow would shed some light.


	8. Day 2: Trial Part 1

**Sorry about the delay, although you're all probably used to it by now and I don't deserve your love because I'm a horrible person that keeps delaying updates to this story, but I have an actual excuse this time. I got a new computer, so I've been preoccupied with setting it up and transferring files, including this story. On the plus side, I have a new computer, and you have an update, and not just any update, a trial update.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**March 17, 9:47 AM. District Court. Defendant Lobby No. 3.**

"Where is he?" Maya complained, "How can he be late for his own trial?"

"Who knows? Maybe he got held up in traffic. Maybe he was overtaken by the angry mob of reporters outside. Anything could have happened."

"Nick, how can you just stand there all calm and stuff when your client could potentially be missing his own trial?"

(To be honest, I'm just too nervous to do much else. The only thing I really know about this case is that Alfred didn't do it, but other than that…I should have spent more time investigating. What did I get myself into?)

"Oh good, you're here!" a voice shouted. Alfred had finally shown up, wearing a military uniform.

(Military?) "You're in the army?"

"Huh? Yeah sorta. I was talking to my boss earlier and he said it might win me some points."

"Is that why you're so late?!" Maya asked.

"Yeah, I had to change. Sorry I made you worry, Miss Maya."

"Just who is your boss?" I ventured to ask, "Yesterday Arthur said he couldn't tell me."

"Ah, well, I can't exactly tell you either, wait, you talked to Arthur yesterday? When?"

"We had lunch together," Maya explained rather cheerfully.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay? It's very noble of you to try and eat Arthur's food but you didn't have to force yourselves."

(…What?)

"Good morning, Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya called out. Sure enough, when I turned to see where she was calling to, Edgeworth sauntered over, glaring at Alfred.

"Hello Edgey!" he greeted, thousand watt smile in place, either completely oblivious to the intimidating aura Edgeworth was giving off or simply choosing to ignore it.

"Can you stop glaring at my client like that? He's nervous enough as it is."

"No, I'm good."

(Well, _I'm_ nervous enough as it is, and a glaring Edgeworth isn't helping.)

"You," he finally spoke, "Why can't I find a file on you anywhere?"

"I dunno," Alfred grinned, "I guess you're just not looking hard enough."

"I've checked with my contacts in all three branches for every position available _including _the one's you clearly weren't like Senator, Justice, and President, and I could not find any file in any database for any Alfred F. Jones. Why?"

"Clearly you just weren't-"

"I was looking hard enough! Why don't you exist, Mr. Jones?"

"Of course I exist, don't be ridiculous! I can't be standing in front of you right now if I wasn't, and everyone in Washington has a file if you know where to look. How far back did you look?"

"All the way to 2000. Seeing as you're only _19_, even that's pushing it quite a bit."

"Only to 2000? I'm starting to wonder about your dedication to this task Edgey." His laughter boomed as it echoed around the lobby.

"Don't call me Edgey!" Edgeworth practically growled, "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"No, you're the one who decided to investigate me; you should figure that out for yourself. If I just told you that wouldn't be very fun now would it?"

(Edgeworth did say he wanted to look into him, but why is Alfred treating it like a game?)

Edgeworth rolled his eyes, but apparently conceded the point, "You should get going. The trial's about to start, but I will see _you_," he jabbed a finger into Alfred's chest, "afterward to talk about this some more, so don't try and run."

"Wasn't planning on it," Alfred winked before disappearing into the courtroom.

"Mr. Edgeworth what was that all about?" Maya asked.

"Something about Mr. Jones doesn't sit very well with me. I can't explain it so I've been looking into him. I went to talk to him about it yesterday, and he knew exactly what I was talking about, but he refused to tell me anything more except that my hunch was correct and that I should find out for myself."

"What hunch is that?" I asked.

"Mr. Jones is, different. Special in some way I suppose is more accurate, almost like there's a government conspiracy surrounding him, and he confirmed that there was."

"What?!"

"More accurately, he said that many people have tried, and failed, to find out his 'Secret.' He wouldn't elaborate any more on it than that, but he welcomed me to try."

"That's sorta like what Lovino was saying yesterday," Maya said, "That Alfred was powerful enough to cover everything up but chose not to."

"He what?" Edgeworth exclaimed, "Who told you that?"

"Lovino Vargas. He's Alfred's friend from Italy. He's really nice."

(Yeah, to you.)

"What did he say exactly?"

"Um, something about Alfred being higher in rank than a Congressman."

"What's wrong Edgeworth?" I asked, as Edgeworth had looked away and started fidgeting.

"Nothing. This just complicates things I suppose. At any rate, my investigation is completely independent to yours, so pay it no mind. Your trial is starting soon isn't it?" He walked away without another word as we were beckoned by the bailiff into the courtroom.

* * *

**March 17, 10:00 AM. District Court, Court Room 3.**

Murmur murmur murmur

BANG BANG!

"This court is now in session for the trial of Alfred F. Jones. Is the defense ready?"

"The defense is ready, your honor."

"And is the prosecution -YEOW!"

"Foolish fool! Of course the prosecution is more than ready."

"A-Alright then, Ms. Von Karma, your opening statement please, with as little whipping as possible if you can."

"The prosecution's case is perfectly simple: Alfred F. Jones killed Congressman Smith. There is no other option, no matter who tries to spin it any way else."

(Why is she looking right at me?)

"During the trial I will perfectly prove beyond all reasonable doubt Alfred's guilt. That is all."

"Okay then. Feel free to call your first witness Ms. Von Karma."

"YEOW! What was that for?!"

"You should be on your toes at all times, Phoenix Wright. The prosecution would like to summon Detective Dick Gumshoe."

"…"

"State your name and occupation now!"

"Yeow! The name's Dick Gumshoe and I'm a Police Detective."

"And you led the investigation?"

"Well, no. Everyone else was busy, so they let me come here. They told me what to say though."

"Well, tell us what you know then, Detective."

_WITNESS TESTIMONY  
_-What Happened-

"_Mr. Jones called Congressman Smith out to the alley at around 9:00. Most likely to discuss something, but the police aren't sure what at this time.  
It doesn't matter though. The point is the Congressman said something that Jones didn't agree with and they started fighting.  
In the heat of the moment, Jones pulled out his gun shot him in the chest.  
The police arrived at the scene only moments later and arrested Jones on the spot."_

"Well, it seems pretty clear what happened, I suppose."

"Of course it is. That's what happened. At this time the prosecution would like to enter Jones's pistol into evidence."

_Alfred's Pistol  
The murder weapon. One of several owned by Alfred. Allegedly stolen the day of the murder. No fingerprints were found on it. Fired twice._

"Alright Mr. Wright, you may begin your cross-examination."

(This should be pretty easy to take apart.)

_CROSS-EXAMINATION  
_-What Happened-

_Mr. Jones called Congressman Smith out to the alley at around 9:00. Most likely to discuss something, but the police aren't sure what at this time._

"HOLD IT! You said Mr. Jones called him? Can you elaborate for us? How exactly did he 'call him out?'"

"Yeah, we found a vaguely threatening letter in the Congressman's office."

"Can we see them?"

"Uh, sure thing, pal."

_Vaguely Threatening Letter  
Found in Congressman Smith's office. Request they meet in the alley at 9:00. Signed 'AFJ.'_

"How do you know Mr. Jones sent this?"

"How many other AFJ's do you know around here, pal?"

"Well I'm sure there are a few… YEOW!"

"If you're so confident, Phoenix Wright, then name one!"

"I, uh, well I can't think of one right now, but I'm sure there are a lot!"

"Ambrose Fitzgerald Jenkins!"

(Maya who are you talking about?)

"Oh? And who's that?"

"I don't know I just made him up."

"Either way, that's still circumstantial at best."

"I think the fact that Alfred Jones showed up is proof enough, but if you want more proof, Phoenix Wright, then let's hear the rest of the Detective's testimony."

_The police arrived at the scene only moments later and arrest Jones on the spot._

"HOLD IT! Can they do that? Just arrest someone for being at the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"OBJECTION! Alfred Jones just finished committing murder. The police have every right to arrest him-"

"OBJECTION!" SLAM! "That hasn't been proven yet! And how were the police to know that if they just stumbled on the scene?"

"Tsk, foolish Phoenix Wright, it was obvious who the murderer was as soon as they arrived!"

"Y-you can't know that for sure!"

"Of course I can. A good lawyer always has evidence to back their statements, Phoenix Wright. Someone on the scene was able to take this photo of the crime scene."

The photo showed Congressman Smith lying dead in the alley where he was found, covered with blood, which was also pooling around him. The gun was lying off to the left side, a little away from the blood, just out of reach, but the real focal point of the picture was Alfred, who was standing off to right, wearing a leather jacket that I hadn't seen him in before, covered in blood.

"WHAT?!"

"And just to prove I'm not playing games, the prosecution also has the jacket in the picture to present as evidence."

_Photo of the Crime Scene  
Taken just after the police showed up. Press Check for more details. Oh wait, you can't._

_Alfred's Jacket  
An old bomber jacket. Worn by Alfred on the day of the murder. Sleeves are covered with the victim's blood. No GSR found._

"What do you think Maya?"

"Well, we know Alfred didn't do it, so Gumshoe's got to be wrong. Just do that thing you usually do and everything should turn out fine."

(Thanks Maya, I think.)

_In the heat of the moment, Jones pulled out his gun shot him in the chest._

"OBJECTION!" SLAM! "Detective Gumshoe, I assume you know what happens when a gun is fired, correct?"

"Of course I do. Someone usually gets shot, pal."

"Can you explain to the court what GSR is?"

"Well, it's sorta, kinda like a, you know that thing where you, you know… Yeow!"

"GSR, or gunshot residue, is a substance that is produced when a firearm is fired, principally composed of burnt and unburnt particles from the explosive primer, the propellant, as well as components from the bullet, the cartridge case and the firearm used. But what does that have to do with anything? Or are you just grasping at straws, Phoenix Wright?"

"When a gun is fired, the GSR ends up all over the hands and clothes of the person who fired it, correct?" POINT! "If Mr. Jones _did_ fire the gun, how could his jacket not have any?"

"OBJECTION! It was raining that night! The GSR on the jacket must have simply washed away."

"OBJECTION! There's still blood on the jacket! If the GSR was washed away by the rain, then why wasn't the blood?"

Mutter mutter mutter.

BANG BANG.

"Order! This is a surprising turn of events. Detective, if Mr. Jones didn't fire the gun, who did?"

"Um, I um…"

"Alfred F. Jones was the only person in the alley other than the victim. Logically he was the one that fired the gun. He must have taken his jacket off before the fight, shot the victim, then put the jacket back on."

"OBJECTION! Then how did the blood do you explain the blood on the jacket?"

"Simple, he touched the body after the deed was done, most likely to check to see if he was actually dead or if he needed to fire another bullet. The blood was transferred to his sleeves then."

(Franziska, does she really think the Judge is going to buy that?)

"Well I buy it."

(Of course you do.)

"But I'm still not convinced enough to safely declare a verdict. Detective Gumshoe, would you mind testifying again?"

"Well, the thing is pal, I've already said my piece so – Yeow!"

"You've already served your usefulness! The prosecution has another witness lined up to erase any doubts the court might have."

"By all means, Ms. Von Karma, call your next witness."

(Here he comes.)

"The prosecution calls Arthur Kirkland to the stand."


End file.
